


The Little Selkie

by Graymalkin



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Gen, Mermaids, Omorashi, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Selkies, Urination, female desperation, female urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:25:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18750841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkin/pseuds/Graymalkin
Summary: A girl from under the sea acquires human legs (and all the other anatomy that comes with them). But she's also stranded on land, and has a tough time becoming part of our world.





	The Little Selkie

**Author's Note:**

> Mermay reminded me of a Mermaid (technically Selkie) story I wrote several years ago.

Mal looked in awe at the bizarre spectacle unfolding on the beach hundreds of feet below. He had been looking for birds, crabs, seashells, cloud formations, or whatever else would look good in a photograph. His attempts to throw a college art project together didn't go so well on the public beach. There were too many people in the way, and one girl in particular he wanted to avoid. Now he was atop a cliff not far away, his camera hanging from a strap on his shoulder, as he stood in a spellbound state and stared at the things that were coming out of the sea. First he had thought them to be a trick of the light. When they surfaced, it was clear they were things rather than reflections of things. As they crawled and loped onto shore he thought they were seals, but it soon became clear they weren't. 

A shiver came to Mal's body with the realization that they were something truly strange. He expected to recognize them immediately, as if it were only some optical illusion or hallucination that made them look like something out of the ordinary. But they only looked more eldritch as his eyes focused. They had dark glistening skin like newts or leeches, but their eyes had a strange sparkle. There were mere suggestions of limbs rather than actual legs or fins. Three were on the shore now, while another three puppet-like heads had surfaced. They were clumsy on land, but something about them looked artful and clever. It was all very strange. Mal had been willing to entertain the possibility that they were dinosaurs, or even dragons. But soon he stopped even trying to place them, and sought only to observe them.

Finally he remembered his camera. His expensive digital camera with the great zoom function. He snatched it up, pointed it in the general direction of the secluded stretch of beach where the creatures were coming ashore. It was still on maximum zoom from the seagulls he had been photographing earlier, and, when he put his eye to the eyepiece, he was surprised to see a nude woman stretching out her arms. He lowered the camera, thinking he was somehow seeing a different part of the shore. It turned out he had pointed the camera in the right direction. There was a redheaded young woman stretching herself next to the six unidentified animals. Or was it seven? There was an indistinct lump that could have been a seventh animal. Having returned the camera to the default view, he looked through it again, and slowly zoomed in, snapping pictures all the time. The woman kept smiling and stretching, and glancing at the Protean creatures every now and then. The extra sharpness of the picture didn't help Mal to identify the figures. They were still semi-symmetrical globs pseudopods of some sort. Their skin was muted shades of blue and green, and seemed now to be made up of something like scales. Things that could have been mouths and nostrils, and things that were definitely gills, appeared before him. But it was the eyes that attracted his attention like magnets. They could have almost belonged to dogs. Or even, perhaps, humans.

Mal's curiosity and anxiety turned to fear and disgust when the back of one of the beast split open. It was red underneath. The gash widened and widened until it ran the length of the spine...assuming it had a spine. Then the red mass inside started to rise out, like the globby redness that oozes from a cherry pie when the knife slides in. In no more than a minute, the entire skin had been pulled away from the muscle and bones, and what almost looked like a red copy of the animal was scrambling across the sand. But it didn't bleed. It seemed all right. The woman smiled as it freed itself from the skin, and many of its brethren were now splitting apart. Mal realized that the small seventh shape was a discarded skin. But where was the thing that had molted it?

The red and pink seal-shaped monsters stretched and squeezed and kneaded themselves until they were shaped like people. Then they actually became people. Women with red hair and blue eyes. They stretched, then walked, and ran, and leaped, and danced about. They seemed to forget about their skins as they enjoyed the warm sand and the cool breeze and everything else around them. One of the skins, which had been kicked off in a hurry, was now draped across a large, pointed rock. Mal had a naughty idea.

\------------------

"Hey, Malford, it's me, Rochelle!" a young woman in a powder blue bathing suit called out to her old classmate. She squinted her hazel eyes in the sun as she removed her sunglasses and brushed her wind-whipped brown hair out of her face, hoping to make herself more recognizable. The young man looked at her stoically for a second, then went back to gathering up his things, paying no attention to the girl.

Rochelle wasn't dissuaded. They'd been friends last year in high school, and, despite a little awkwardness the day of their graduation ceremony, she assumed they were still friends. She tiptoed across the hot sand to meet him.

"Whatcha got there?" she asked as she saw the odd thing he had draped over his arm.

"It's nothing," Mal answered curtly. "Look, I don't have time to talk. I'm working against a deadline. I've got a complicated project for my photography course."

"Ooh, can I see it when it's done?"

"Sure. You still got the same e-mail address?"

"Yeah. So what is that?" She reached out and touched the strange cloth Mal was holding. It felt at the same time like fine silk, the wing of a butterfly, and the belly of a garter snake. It was a beautiful blue, but only showed its color where the light hit it straight on.

"Careful, it's rare."

"But what is it?"

"It's a long story." He folded it up carefully and put it in a duffel bag with the rest of his things.

After a few more pleasantries and dodged questions, Mal was off, and Rochelle was wondering if she had offended him. But mostly she was wondering about the cloth he had carried. Something about it utterly fascinated her from the instant her brain had registered the sensation of her fingertips touching it. That fascination was growing every second. But she hadn't lost sight of the destination where she'd been heading before she sighted Mal.

A bunker-like cement building painted tan housed the public restrooms. Rochelle had much time to think as she stood in line. 

She'd gotten the impression Mal had just found the cloth. So if she could just backtrack the way she'd seen him coming, maybe she could find where he had gotten it, and what it was. Her obsession grew, her patience diminished, and soon she abandoned the slowly-moving line in favor of her quest.

A strange feeling came upon her while she was making her way along the winding cliffside. She didn't know what it was, but it frightened as well as excited her. As she was rounding a bend, she caught sight of a triangular rock that jutted out of the ground like a tooth. The rock had been enough to catch her attention, but she could see something behind it, just peeking out of the edge. The girl's blood pressure jumped. That something was covered with blood.

When she came in full view of the thing she had glimpsed, she put her hands over her mouth in shock. She didn't scream, or even gasp, but her eyes were wide and her tan skin was starting to turn white. In the sand lay a human corpse that had been skinned from head to toe. Every muscle was fully exposed for her to see. Tendons, ligaments, and even mammary glands could be spotted amongst the glistening red meat. The scavengers were keeping their distance. There was no pool of blood or stench of decay or any other sign of decomposition. It looked as clean as a freshly-butchered hog. This orderliness made the grisly sight even more unnerving to the faint-hearted young woman. But this horror was nothing compared to what came next.

Just as Rochelle's rational mind was starting to kick in and she thought about whether she should go back and tell a lifeguard or call 911 right now, she saw the body move. Slowly, it sat up. Rochelle shrieked. 

When it was in an upright position, the stringy red eyelids on the skinless face opened to reveal a pair of blue eyes. Rochelle's screams were soon suppressed into squeaks and gasps as her breath left her. But she lost control of more than just her voice. 

Rochelle's bikini began to turn a darker shade of blue in a spot just behind where her thighs met. Her body wobbled as she tried to fight gravity and the loss of her strength and oxygen. The large navy blue spot reached forwards, backwards, and sideways, until it met the borders of the fabric and liquid began to run down her legs like streams of rainwater coursing over the lips of an overburdened gutter.

The skinned fiend opened its mouth, revealing paradoxically white teeth, and spoke. "I have the same problem with this human body. Sometimes liquid leaks from between my legs."

\------------------

When Rochelle sat up from the couch, she hoped it had all been a dream. It hadn't.

There was a strange redhead in her apartment, wearing some of her spare clothes, staring at her with those creepy blue eyes.

Rochelle hadn't really slept. It was late, but she wasn't counting on getting any sleep this night. She had just laid down to collect her wits, to get a grasp on this strange situation. But she had drifted into a sort of half-sleep, perhaps because her brain wanted to shut down and leave reality behind.

"Your name is Rochelle Reincken, is it not?" the mysterious woman said.

"I can't even remember if I introduced myself," Rochelle said. "What's your name, anyway?"

"I can't seem to make the right sounds with this throat or these lips. But the name of my people is 'Selkie.' I heard your name when I was learning from you while you rested. I hope you don't mind. I was desperate to know things."

"Learning from me?" asked Rochelle, squinting in confusion.

"Listening to your thoughts. I thought I could learn enough to solve my problems. I heard very little in your mind, but I did pick out what I thought was your name."

"Yeah, I'm Rochelle Reincken. Your problem is that you need your skin back, I understand that much...except you have skin now, so I guess I don't understand. God, this is all so crazy."

"I have two more urgent problems, and I need to call upon your knowledge of the human body to determine how to solve them. The first problem is a pain I have here." She put her hand on her stomach.

"I'm not surprised. In the last couple hours you've eaten a dead pelican, two fast food meals, including the paper the burgers were wrapped in, then I let you into my fridge...I'm kind of regretting that...and you ate four hard boiled eggs and eight raw eggs, all with the shells on, a head of lettuce, a dozen carrots, and a bowl of leftover chili, then I chased you out of the fridge and you ate a dozen bananas without peeling them or taking off the stickers, and probably every other piece of fruit around here. I just got groceries last night, too.

"I need energy for my magic. Maintaining this false skin requires much magical energy. Don't worry about the ill effects of the things you say aren't edible. Even in this human body, I possess enough intrinsic magic to protect myself from poisons."

"But my point is that's why you have a tummyache. Your stomach is too full. Don't worry about it. It will feel better as you digest your food...which I paid for."

"I'm sorry if you are displeased, but I need false skin and a large magical reserve if I'm going to inconspicuously locate my skin and steal it back.

"No offense, but that's not gonna work. There's nothing inconspicuous about you. When I brought you home, you didn't know what a door was. You didn't even understand clothes. How do you think you're going to function in human society without attracting unwanted attention?"

"I don't know. But right now I have a more urgent problem."

"Right, you did say two problems, didn't you?"

"I have a second pain lower in the body. Not a pain so much as a...I think 'tingling' is the best word."

"Hmm...Oh! I bet you have to pee."

"That's the word you used when you spoke of the unwanted liquid outpouring that happened in your swimming clothes, is it not?"

"Yeah, but don't go telling anybody I did that. You're probably getting that tingling because you have to pee, so I'll show you where the bathroom is."

"I still don't understand 'pee' fully, and I don't understand 'bathroom' at all. All I know is that, when I take the form of my human ancestors for substantial lengths of time, I have problems with liquid pouring out of my body. Some of the other Selkies have had it happen too."

Rochelle blushed. She really didn't want to explain. "How about you do that mind-reading thing to find out all about it? That'll be faster than using words, right?"

"Yes, that should work." The fire-haired stranger put the palm of her cold hand on Rochelle's forehead. "Concentrate on the area of knowledge you want me to absorb."

"This isn't working," Rochelle heard her say after a few moments. Are you thinking about the subject?"

"Yeah."

"I can't learn about it."

"You sure?" Rochelle was dreading a verbal explanation. One of the reasons she never wanted to have children was to avoid having to potty train anyone. Now it looked like this strange being from the sea needed just such a lesson.

"All I can really understand is that bathrooms are a place human females go to in pairs or groups. The rest of the subject eludes me. It's as if your mind is hiding it all behind a dark veil."

Rochelle blushed again. She realized it must be because she was unconsciously censoring herself. This was a shameful subject, after all.

"I guess I'll have to tell you. Follow me to the bathroom." Rochelle winced as she remembered. "Actually, the plumbing's been acting up. I can't trust the toilet to flush. I need to talk to the landlord about that _again_. In the meantime, we'll have to use the public bathroom on the first floor."

"What is this 'bathroom'?"

"It's the place where you can pee."

"Can't I pee anywhere? You peed inside your swimming clothes on the beach."

"You can but you shouldn't. So hold it."

The woman held out her hands. "What do I need to hold?"

"Your pee. Hold it inside."

She put her hands inside her pants and gripped the flesh between her legs.

"That won't help. Well, maybe it will, but don't do it when people are watching. At the very least, keep your hands outside of your clothes when you hold yourself."

"The tingling is getting worse. What should I do?"

"I don't know how to explain how to hold it in. But please figure out a way. We're going to the bathroom, and you need to stay dry until we get there."

"Why does peeing happen? Why can't we control it?"

"It happens because you drink liquids. They have to go somewhere."

"I suppose. My skin is full of magic that benefits my body in many ways, so I never think much about how my organs work. I've never noticed peeing happening while in my skin."

"Lucky you."

As they left Rochelle's apartment, the strange woman asked, "Am I right to think it is taboo to let water pour out of you at any place except in the confines of a bathroom?"

"Yes."

"So what you did inside your swimming clothes is forbidden?"

"Yes, but please don't mention it. And don't talk like this when you're not in my apartment. There could be people..." As if on cue, Rochelle saw someone headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. It was a tall man with dark skin, short black hair, and a friendly smile.

"Hi, Ben."

"Hey, Rochelle. Who's your friend?"

"You may call me 'Selkie.' It would be most accurate."

Rochelle blushed, but "Selkie" was clearly unaware she was saying anything strange or embarrassing.

"I like the accent," Ben commented. "Where are you from?"

"The Reykjanes Ridge."

"Is that in Ireland?"

"It's nearby."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Right now Rochelle Reincken and I are going to the bathroom together, as human females are wont to do."

Ben didn't have anything to say to that. Rochelle wanted to scream, she was so embarrassed.

"Let's go, Selkie," she said, and she fled from the embarrassing conversation as quickly as she could without making it obvious that she was running away. 

"It's the ascending room again," Selkie commented when they reached the elevator. "This is so intriguing."

"It's called an elevator. It's going to take us down to where the bathrooms are."

"How does it work?"

"Don't worry about it. Actually, maybe you should. If you take your mind off your pee it should keep you from peeing your pants."

"The peeing of pants is what you did on the beach, is it not?"

"Yes, that's the right phrase. But don't mention that again. It's embarrassing."

"Ah! Because you are ashamed of accidentally violating a taboo."

"Yeah. I don't want to pee my pants, and neither should you. Nobody does."

"Except inside a bathroom."

"No! You don't pee your pants there either. You pee in a toilet."

"A toilet is something inside a bathroom?"

Rochelle relaxed her neck until her head bumped into the wall of the elevator. "This is going to be a hard lesson to teach," she muttered to herself.

On the ground floor, they walked to the lobby where the closest restrooms were.

"Just keep remembering you don't want to pee your pants under any circumstances," Rochelle whispered. "You take them off first."

Selkie reached for the fly of her jeans.

"No! Not now!"

When inside the bathroom, Selkie again tried to take off her pants, but Rochelle again stopped her. Someone at the sink noticed this happening in the mirror, and turned around in puzzlement.

"Hi, Rochelle!" said the perky blonde.

"Oh, hi, Jenna," Rochelle said, again wanting to wince.

"God, I didn't know you still lived here! I haven't seen you in ages."

"Yeah, I'm working some crazy hours these days."

"Please tell me what to do soon," Selkie said. Rochelle noticed she was now holding her crotch.

"Don't do that," she snapped.

"I have to. I'm very close to peeing my pants."

"What?!? Jenna exclaimed."

"This is my friend Selkie. We're coming back from a little girls' night out, and she had too much to drink."

"Yes, I drank very much, it has to go somewhere."

"You're in trouble, then," Jenna remarked with a laugh. "All the stalls are taken."

"Just my luck!" Rochelle bemoaned.

"Are there toilets inside the stalls?" Selkie asked.

"Why don't you just go in the men's room? That's what I always do in a situation like this. It's never full."

"I can't take Selkie into the men's bathroom! She's too innocent!"

"Huh?"

"I don't want to be in there with guys. She doesn't know how to handle herself."

"I don't?"

"No, you don't."

Jenna gave Rochelle a quizzical look.

"Please take me somewhere where I can pee without breaking a taboo, Rochelle Reincken," Selkie said.

"Fine, we'll go to the men's room," Rochelle said. She couldn't say no to those big blue pleading eyes.

"I'll watch the door for you," Jenna volunteered. "I don't think any guys'll mind waiting for you. Especially if they see how cute you are."

Inside the empty men's room, Rochelle began to lecture Selkie. "Take your pants down to your knees and sit down."

Selkie obliged, and Rochelle cradled her head in her hands and groaned. 

"Selkie, that's not a toilet," she said in a pained voice. "That's a sink."

The redhead lifted her rear end out of the sink and prepared to hop down. But the countertop around the sink was wet, and her hands and legs slipped. She flew sideways and landed bottom-first on the tile floor.

"I peed," Selkie announced. Indeed, there was a puddle growing around her. But it was worse than just that.

"You didn't pull down your underwear," Rochelle said, once again burying her face in her hands.

"You only mentioned the pants. Will I be punished now?"

"No."

"Later, then?"

"Don't worry about it. Nobody here will punish you for peeing your pants."

"But it is a taboo, is it not?"

"Yes, but it's not a law."

"Then how is it enforced?"

"It's hard to explain. Just don't worry about anyone around here punishing you."

"I feel excellent."

"What?!? Why?"

"The peeing felt good, because it removed the tingling pain. My human body is now devoid of bad feelings. Correction: The two lumps of flesh just above the tops of my legs are sore."

"Get up. I'll show you how to use a toilet, for future reference."

Rochelle helped Selkie off the floor, and she pulled up her jeans. The seat of her pants was already soaked, and the front began to darken as well when the denim came into contact with the wet panties.

"The pee is pleasantly warm," Selkie commented with a smile. "It feels like blood, but I am uninjured."

"Here's what to do next time," Rochelle said. She was in a stall with the door left wide open. She loosened her belt buckle, unbuttoned and unzipped her faded hip-hugging jeans, and pulled them down to her knees. Then she did the same with her lime green cotton hipsters.

"You sit down on the toilet like this, after making sure the seat is down."

"But the seat is up."

"That's the lid. It's different."

"Why is there both a lid and a seat?"

"Don't worry about it. You sit down and you let go of your pee."

Rochelle spurted and sputtered. It was a little hard to get going while Selkie was watching and scrutinizing with wide blue eyes. But she managed to initiate the stream, which continued until she was almost empty. After a few squirt gun-like blasts to the inside of the bowl, her bladder was fully voided.

"Your pee isn't nearly as yellow as mine," Selkie observed

"It's different colors at different times. I'm not sure why."

"Why have you never inquired or researched the different pee colors?"

"Because it's taboo. We don't talk about it."

"Don't you have to talk about it?"

"Sometimes. But we prefer to avoid it. Just like we prefer to avoid peeing our pants."

"That is why you wish to avoid talking about your peeing in your swimming clothes, is it not?"

"Yes! Don't talk about it again!" Rochelle scolded for what felt like the hundredth time. Then she returned to the lesson. "Now that I've peed in the toilet, I wipe the extra pee off my body so it doesn't get my clothes wet." She got some toilet paper and dabbed at her wet parts. "Then I flush the pee along with the paper."

"Where does all that water and pee and paper go?"

"Into a lot of pipes."

"Where do the pipes go?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"I want to learn about the dry world so I can go about in it long enough to recover my skin. My life depends on it." For the first time, Rochelle felt truly sad for Selkie.

"What happens if you can't get your skin back?"

"I won't be able to breathe underwater, so I won't be able to go home. If I stay away from the sea for too long, my magic will drain away. No amount of food can help that. When I have no magic, my tissues will no longer be able to stay together without skin, and my organs will fail. I will die."

"We'll go up to my room and get started right away," Rochelle said forcefully as she pulled up her pants. "You'll learn from my mind, and with that knowledge we can make a plan."

"I can also teach you from my mind."

"Great! I know how to find the person who took your skin, and I'm sure we can get it back from him without betraying your people's secret. How long can you live without your skin, anyway?"

"I don't know. No Selkie has had to die that way for centuries."

"And you won't die that way, either. I may not understand the situation, but I know I won't let that happen to you."

When Rochelle exited the bathroom, she realized she had forgotten another situation. Jenna was still waiting outside, as were a trio of college-age boys. Rochelle could see each one of their faces light up as they saw a pair of beautiful girls their age and a chance to talk to them. It was also obvious when each one noticed Selkie's wet spot.

"Thanks for waiting, guys," Rochelle said. Sorry about that.

"No problem," one of the boys said.

"Are you all right?" Jenna asked Selkie as everyone around pretended not to stare at her wet spot.

"No. I peed my pants."

"She'll be all right," Rochelle assured.

"Now we're going back to Rochelle Reincken's room," Selkie continued, "where she will punish me."

Rochelle hastily led Selkie to the stairs.

"Why aren't we taking the box that ascends and descends?" the confused girl asked.

"We might run into people there, and I don't want to share an elevator with them and have to explain our situation. So we'll take the stairs, where there are less people. By the way, I'm not going to punish you for peeing your pants. I thought I already made that clear."

"You said no one down there would punish me. I thought you were reserving that duty for yourself."

"No. You won't be punished at all."

"I feel wonderful!"

"I wish I did."

"These 'stairs' are a lot of work to climb," Selkie commented after making it up two flights. "I wish I could swim up to the floor where your room is."

"I don't know what to tell you. You'll have to get used to using your legs."

"Legs are fun to use every so often, but I wouldn't want to have to depend on them all the time."

On the sixth floor they again encountered Rochelle's friend Ben. Selkie spoke before Rochelle could say anything.

"I see you're staring at my pants. I wet them because my journey to a toilet was delayed. But don't worry about me; I will receive no punishment."

Ben looked at her dumbfounded. Not knowing what to do, Selkie smiled. Rochelle led the girl away from the boy, all the while suppressing the urge to chomp down on her own hand.

Back in the privacy of her apartment the two fared better. From Rochelle, Selkie learned about things like cars, makeup, and money. What she needed to know to get around in this world of dry land.

Rochelle, in turn, learned about the Selkies. Their ancestors were strange sea monsters who took human brides. Magic allowed the women to live in the dark undersea abode, where their descendants now live in happiness. But female Selkies take after their ancestral mothers, and have an inborn homesickness for the land above. To this day, they take excursions to deserted shores, slough off the inconvenient skins that contain their gills and most of their magical attributes, and enjoy the land and air and Sun. They can do this because their bodies under their skin can be reshaped into the ancestral form, and they have enough magic residing within themselves to fashion temporary false skins that make them look and feel even more human. But their skins are essential to them. They protect them from drowning, disease, the blindness they would otherwise have so deep underwater, and the ill effects of high water pressure. They also, Rochelle could infer, protect them from the need to urinate and defecate. And so Selkies think nothing more of their food once they have swallowed it.

Even though a Selkie's skin is so important, this Selkie had become so intoxicated by the feeling of being on land that she hadn't kept an eye on it. Then, when it was time to follow her older sisters back home, she couldn't find it, and realized a land-dwelling person or thing must have crept in and stolen it away.

"My mind is spinning," Rochelle said once the two were done sharing their thoughts. "There's so much to take in. I know I said we would draw up a plan tonight, but I'm exhausted. Physically and mentally. I'm going to try to get some sleep, although that's probably impossible."

"You have trouble sleeping?" Selkie asked, sounding concerned.

"Not normally, but my mind is racing right now. I've been through so much today."

"You should rest."

"I'll try."

"Here," Selkie said, coming close to Rochelle. "I know a trick that will help you."

\------------------

It was a beautiful morning, and Selkie was so glad she was up here where she could see the Sun shining down on the Earth. She got out of bed and stretched, as if she were coming out of her skin. How she longed to have that skin back. Still, this body had definite plusses. She felt one of the minuses instantly, but knew how to remedy it. She got dressed, took the elevator down to the ground floor, greeting Rochelle's friends and acquaintances as she met them, and made her way to the bathroom. She followed Rochelle's directions perfectly this time, pulling down both her panties and her pants, and sitting on the toilet's seat even though it hurt her sore buttocks. She only deviated from the instructions by letting out a moan of satisfaction as the urine was released from her aching bladder. She covered her mouth, and felt shameful for doing something that seemed like it should be a taboo. If she had known a little more, or been able to read human expressions better, she would have known that leaving the stall door open was also taboo. But none of the women who saw her sitting there said anything, so how could she know?

When she was done, she wiped herself, stared in amazement as the toilet flushed, pulled back up her panties and pants, and washed her hands.

Back up in Rochelle's room, she got some things together, then went to the bathroom to get herself ready for her meeting with Malford Poynter today. She had learned enough from Rochelle's mind to feel confident that she could solve this problem. There was the other, minor problem of the pain she felt in her lower abdomen, but she wasn't worried about that. Her knowledge from Rochelle told her what implements were located in which drawers, and what most of the things in the medicine cabinet were. She knew how to apply makeup, fix hair, and do everything else she needed to look pretty. But she knew she didn't need much. She had a beautiful face with silky brown hair, and her own blue eyes worked well in the ensemble.

Before turning the light off, Selkie glanced at the bathtub. There, half-submerged in red-tinted water, lay what was left of Rochelle Reincken.

"Thanks for everything."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to continue this story someday.


End file.
